Sins of Allegiance
by horrorinabasket
Summary: Immortality comes at a price. If Alec was a normal Shadowhunter, he would have never even considered paying it. Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane. Post CoLS.
1. a steep stairwell to fall down upon

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own The Mortal Instruments series or any mention of the Infernal Devices series. All rights belong to their author: Cassandra Clare. Thank you.

**Summary: **Immortality comes at a price. If Alec was a normal Shadowhunter, he would have never even considered paying it. Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane. Post CoLS.

**Sins of Allegiance**

_a steep stairwell to fall down upon _

When Alec was nine years old he found a book series in the library called the Divine Comedy. For three years it had been resolutely stated as his unquestioned favourite. He went to the Institute library every day, curling up into an armchair at the far back; not caring how cold it was away from the fireplace. For weeks on end he would read sections from Dante's Inferno, his young mind trying to comprehend something that not even adult Shadowhunters could claim to understand. Just what exactly happened after death. Narrowly, Alec was more interested in Hell than anything else. He knew that Hodge had been unnerved at his apparent fixation with the Underworld, but Alec hadn't cared at the time. He knew that Hodge wouldn't bring it up to his parents unless it affected his training. Which Alec made sure didn't happen.

Not even the Angel had blessed Jonathon Shadowhunter with the knowledge of the Underworld. Heaven was paradise, and Hell was Hell. But, Alec wanted to know more about what Hell was like. What exact tortures the divine would demand for the sins of those declared lesser than themselves. When Alec had tried to speak to Hodge of Hell, his teacher had refused to answer any of his questions. He wondered, from all he heard of Downworlders, if they went to Hell when they died. Alec knew, of course, that demons were not really from Hell, but from another dimension, and that the creatures in Hell were a different entity entirely. They were fallen angels; more fearsome than any creature. Princes and Princesses, Lords and Ladies of Hell, and closer in relation to Nephilim than most Shadowhunters preferred to declare claim to. Perhaps that was why they were immortal or lived so long, so they didn't have to face the fires of Hell so quickly. It was understandable.

That didn't explain, however, of what act was so atrocious it would send a mundane to Hell. Heaven seemed so easy, and Hell so complicated. No matter what the religion, the pathway to paradise was easy compared to the one to Hell. The rules were set out before them. Neatly written on stone was the pathway to eternal paradise. At least, that was what Alec had thought at the time. He knew better now. It was difficult to fight one's true, sinful nature. What had once seemed so easy was actually unbearably complex once the mind was old enough to fully understand the world.

Alec had been twelve years old when he came to the startlingly realization that he was going to Hell. He had never thought of it before, a Shadowhunter going to Hell. It seemed almost impossible at the time. But at twelve years old Alec had read more than just the Divine Comedy, Paradise, and the Shadowhunters Codex. He had read books in every language, belonging to every religion, written by both mundanes and Shadowhunters alike. The Torah, the Iliad, the Code. He had read essays, documents, and explanations. At that age, Alec felt like he had a better understanding of angels and demons than most people in existence.

At the time it had made him proud. This was what he had been living for, after all. He was a Nephilim, the blood of the Angel ran though his veins, this was the knowledge he was meant to have. This was why it took Alec only two weeks, twelve hours, thirty-six minutes and twelve seconds after Jace Wayland appeared at the Institute for Alec to realize just what exactly he was feeling. Attraction. To another boy. He knew, days leading up to this realization what it meant, but it took a while before it really hit him. Alec escaped his lessons for the day, claiming illness. Which wasn't that far off the truth because he did spend over half the day hidden inside the washroom, vomiting after he realized just what this meant for him.

At first he had desperately hoped for it to be a fluke. Personally, Alec didn't care about gender or who chose to do what to whom. That didn't stop him from understanding that those weren't the morals of the majority of the population. No matter what angle Alec looked at it, what books he read and read over again, it was a sin. It was a sin to mundanes, and it was a sin to Shadowhunters as well. Really, the only ones who Alec found didn't care about the issue were texts written by Downworlders. Those, however, were not meant to be examples of propriety. To be honest, Alec had been afraid. He was a Shadowhunter, blessed the day he was conceived, and his own mind betrayed the blood within him. Alec knew at that moment, heaving over the mocking porcelain toilet, that he could never tell his parents or Hodge. They could never find out because it would mean disaster if they did.

Unlike Isabelle, who was overjoyed when they were allowed outside the Institute without glamours, Alec preferred his solidarity. He didn't like the bustling streets, the stares, or the random strangers who came up to them cooing. It bothered Alec, he couldn't stand it. If his marks were stripped, Alec wouldn't know what to do with himself. He was born to be a Shadowhunter, that was all he had been raised to do, all he had been taught. If Alec were forced into mundane society, he would be lost. Alec knew their customs were different from those of the Nephilim, but Alec had never cared to properly learn them. Alec needed Idris, needed to be a Shadowhunter otherwise he would be even more useless than he already was.

That was why Alec had ignored any misgivings he may have had, and sneaked out of the Institute the next day; still claiming a bout of illness. Alec stared back at the people who walked by him in groups, trying to figure them out. He walked around New York for hours. Until the sun began to set and his body started to shake; feet and legs aching. Still, there was nothing. He had walked passed countless of pretty girls, beautiful girls even. Faced decorated with colourful make-up, or none at all; preferring to stay natural. With short skirts, or worn jeans. There were a variety of girls to look at and admire. None of them did anything for Alec. They didn't ignite that spark he felt in the training room with Jace. In fact, the only person who did so was an older man that caught Alec's eye. He was tall, clearly Asian and had spiky black hair with a single streak of purple going through his quiff. He winked at Alec when he caught the other boy staring. Alec had flushed and turned away, but couldn't deny the fluttering in his stomach.

Alec returned to the Institute, unnoticed, hating himself even more so than he had in the morning. Alec knew then that he was gay. Which meant, according to the Holy Scriptures that most Shadowhunters devoted their lives to, that Alec was an abomination. Certainly not to the degree that Warlocks were, or the Fey. But definitely not worthy enough to be a Shadowhunter any longer. A part of Alec wanted to blame Jace because if the other boy had never come to the Institute, Alec may have lived his entire life oblivious. He had never cared for communicating with others, so if he had just avoided people his entire life he would have never known.

That was an unfair assessment, however. Alec knew, realistically, that it wasn't Jace's fault that Alec was sick. Still, it had come as shock when Jace had practically demanded for Alec to be his parabatai. Alec had only been fourteen. Technically, he still had four more years but it was unlikely he would meet anyone in that span of time he would trust to be his parabatai more so than Jace. The hesitation lingered, though, because Alec still knew what he was and what he felt for Jace. Even if the other boy had no idea. Alec doubted Jace even thought about things like that, especially concerning other boys. Alec hated to admit to it because it wasn't something a parabatai bond should be the basis of, but Alec hoped that by accepting Jace's proposal then his feeling would disappear.

It didn't happen. Instead they seemed almost intensified by the bond. Making Alec hate himself even more. Now he was breaking two of the Clave's laws because now not only was he in love with another boy, but that boy was his parabatai as well. Now there was even more of a reason that no one could ever find out what exactly Alec was feeling. The only uplifting part was that there was absolutely no chance of anything ever happening. Even if Jace somehow managed to return his feelings, which was unlikely because he was as interested in girls as Isabelle was in boys, leaving Alec trailing along uncomfortably behind them, they couldn't do anything about it less they wanted to be stripped of their marks and heritage. Despite the self-loathing, Alec felt inexplicably safe with the situation he landed himself in.

As for the Divine Comedy, Alec still remembered the night he burned all three of the poems in his washroom upstairs. He wondered if Hodge had ever noticed them missing. Perhaps he had thought Alec had stolen them, which he technically had. But it wasn't for quite the reasons Hodge would be thinking. In fact, Alec never wanted to read another religious or magical book again. It was Dante's Inferno that was the tip of his obsession with the beyond world, and Alec couldn't help but hate the book he once adored. Alec didn't want to think of Heaven or Hell anymore, of sin and of angels. Alec was taught to love the Angel, but that just wasn't something he could do anymore. Instead of love, there was a blithering rage inside of him that wanted to scream at Raziel. Why, if they were meant to be Children of the Angel, did he create Alec like this? As an abomination, less than the perfection required to be a Shadowhunter. Alec wanted to scream and cry, but he couldn't. That wasn't what a Shadowhunter did. That wasn't what he did; Alec was the calm one, next to the storm that was Jace and Isabelle.

He could remember the sound of the tap as it ran cold water. He could still clearly picture his hands methodically lighting the bottom corner of the books on fire, waiting until the flames reached the tips of his fingers where he would then feel the heat emitting from the sparks. Right before he dropped them into the coolness of the sink. It wasn't until Alec reached the final book, Dante's Inferno, that he held the books longer than was strictly appropriate. He ended up burning the tips and pads of several of his fingers on his right hand to the point of scarring. In the end it wasn't the pain that made Alec drop the book, even though the peeling of his skin made his eyes water, but the smell of burning flesh that did. Sometimes Alec wondered if he had ever really smelled the burning flesh, above the smoke of the books, or if that was just his imagination tricking him into dropping the book. Some type of self-preservation that Alec was meant to have to keep his siblings alive. The look on his ashen face then was one Alec saw reflected back at him now, almost every time he looked at himself in the mirror.

After that night, Alec didn't have the passion for books that he did before. Now, however, there was a book that Alec desperately needed to read. Which was why he was lucky that Magnus was so desperate to avoid him, and refused to be in his apartment the same time as him. It hurt, but it was better for his plan that Magnus wasn't there. Alec knew, had always known even when he had considered it, how wrong it was for Alec to even consider taking away Magnus' immortality. All because he was too scared to face that sort of life himself. Too scared to become a vampire, like Simon, or to perform any of the sacred rituals that resulted in immortality.

He knew what Magnus and Camille had thought of his decision. They thought that he was too disgusted by what the rituals required, or the the demon blood that would overpower his angel blood if he were to become a vampire. It bothered Alec, that Magnus thought that despite Alec's proven love for him he still thought some part of Alec was repelled by what he was. Still, Alec didn't know how to tell Magnus that he had gotten it all wrong. It wasn't that Alec was repulsed by immortality, it was that he knew he didn't deserve it.

Immortality was a way for Alec to avoid a place he always knew he was destined to go to: Hell. He knew now that he deserved to go to Hell more than he did when he was twelve, and first came to the realization. If Alec were to become immortal there was a chance he would walk the Earth for thousands, possibly millions of years. An eternal paradise on Earth wasn't something that Alec deserved. But it was something that needed to be done. Alec needed Magnus more desperately than he needed anyone else before in his life. More than when he longed for his parents as a child, instead of a teacher with little interest in him and a baby sister who could barely speak. More so than he ever wanted Jace, which seemed fickle by comparison. It wasn't a want anymore. Alec didn't want Magnus, he _needed _him. With everything he had.

It was because of that Alec was willing to sacrifice everything that had he had ever known, countless of lessons taught to him. About warlocks, fallen angels, and what being a Shadowhunter meant. Magnus never asked for him to give it up, but Alec could tell on certain occasions that Magnus just wanted to scream at him to give up his Shadowhunter principles and be a normal person. If only so they could properly be together without all of Alec's useless baggage pulling them below the surface; drowning them and their relationship.

Alec left his key on the table, like Magnus had instructed, but didn't immediately leave after that. He took a moment to look around the kitchen and the living room. He couldn't help but swallow. This apartment had become more his home than the Institute ever was. It was so completely unlike Alec, the opposite of everything he found comforting, but he found more reassurance in the flashy mismatched furniture than he ever did surrounded by pictures of angels and paradise. Alec walked out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, where he really had no place of being anymore. Still, walking into the room for what was possibly the last time left Alec with a bittersweet sense of peace. The canary yellow sheets made him smile for the first time in what felt like days.

He walked further in, passed the bed and to the closet. Alec opened the closet door and knelt down, and the carpet was familiar beneath his knees. The thought almost made him laugh. Looking into the closet, Alec saw the box he was looking for. He knew better than to immediately reach out and grasp it. This would have to be done carefully as Alec couldn't risk the chance of messing up. He took a sharp intake of breath, and thought of the word he heard Magnus whisper whenever he came to this spot. Early in the morning, when he thought Alec was still sleeping, and late at night whenever he thought Alec preoccupied with something else.

The demon language had never been taught to him, nor was it meant to be. That didn't stop Alec from twisting his tongue around the word, however, hissing the constants and slurring the vowels so the word came out perfectly without his Idris accent interfering. For a moment Alec thought it hadn't worked. Knowing that he had possibly mispronounced the word made him want to scream. Alec didn't have enough time to sit here making second or more attempts, risking the chance of saying the wrong word and causing a catastrophe. Then, to his shock, the box rattled. It glowed a sickly blue and then settled again.

Shakily, he reached out; not fully certain on what was happening. He could never actually watch Magnus while he was doing this. The first touch was hesitant, only a brief brush of the tips of his fingers. Nothing happened, but that didn't help Alex relax. With tense fingers he propped the lid open. Still, nothing was happening. Alec was still stiff, however, ready to leap away at a moments notice. He picked up the book and quickly closed the lid once again. He jumped back, the closet banging shut much more loudly than he had anticipated. It made him gasp, but still nothing was happening.

Alec stared down at the book clenched in his paler than usual hands. For a moment it felt as if he were in shock, as he was frozen in place like a statue; unable to move. Then, Alec laughed. It wasn't a truly happy sound, but it made him feel better about what he was doing. In his grasp was the Book of White, one of the most sought after books in the world. Alec had been shocked that Clary allowed Magnus to keep it, but then again she didn't fully understand the value of the spell book. Unlike The Gray Book, there was only a single copy of the Book of White.

Inside it was not only potions, but spells and rituals. Not the light offensive or defensive spells in most books belonging to Warlocks. No, the Book of White contained rituals that even the most seasoned Warlocks feared attempting. Alec understood the necessity behind what he was doing, however, and refused to let that quail him. With one last look at the key on the kitchen table, Alec walked out of the apartment. He hadn't told anyone about the split between him and Magnus, so Alec knew they weren't even expecting him to come home. Which was good because if the ritual did work Alec was going to need some time to recuperate.

His walked pick up to a steady jog once he turned into the nearest alleyway. Admittedly, he did want this over with as quick as possible. Usually Alec was the patient one, but this just wasn't something he could be patient about. Especially if Magnus noticed the Book of White was missing before Alec had a chance to perform the ritual. Technically it belonged to the Shadowhunters, so it was well within Alec's rights to take it, but that wasn't why he was doing this. It would be too difficult to explain to Magnus, who always seemed so worried about Alec and immortality. He didn't understood that Alec needed to do this, and that his reluctance before had nothing to do with internal prejudice.

He couldn't take away Magnus' immortality. That was a disgusting idea to even consider, Alec knew that when he first even heard Camille's offer. But he could take control of his own future. Alec knew what he wanted now. Maybe he knew it since the day he first walked into Magnus' apartment, and saw a man with familiar hooded eyes. Either way, Alec knew that he needed to show Magnus just how serious he was. Most of him knew that Magnus would not be appreciative of Alec's decision, but it was just that – Alec's decision. For once in his life, he felt like he was determining his own fate.

Ducking into a back alleyway, Alec finally stumbled upon the building he had found a little over a week ago. It was a gritty, old abandoned place where the only habitats were rodents and stale air. From the looks of it, Alec guessed it to be an old, rundown mundane factory building. Perfect for what Alec needed it for. He climbed the high, barbed fence and quickly ran up to the door, unlocking it with a clip he had stolen from Isabelle's bedroom. The creaky door swung open, the old rust creating a high, rubbing sound; causing Alec to flinch backwards.

Alec knew some demon rituals, and he had learned more from Camille. Enough, he knew, to get by until the beginning part was finished, at the very least. The factory was at least ten stories, but Alec only needed the first two floors. They were the closest together in height, and if the measurements he had taken last week proved true, then his circle alignments would be perfect. Carefully walking around old, worn wooden desks and mouldy couches Alec made his way to the middle of the room. Sitting down, he began to carefully untie his shoes and remove his socks. Leaving them in a pile off to the side, Alec held up his left foot and with the clip in hand made a long, deep cut from the base of his heel to the tip of his middle toe. He then placed the clip inside the Book of White, before gently laying it on the floor next to his shoes.

The blood began to pore down his foot quickly, creating a wet, slippery feeling as he stood up. Thankfully, Alec had very good balance. He walked in a perfect circle, dragging his foot on the ground so the blood would stain. For the first demon that he would call, all Alec needed was a simple Fifth Pentacle of Mars trap to make this demon obey him. Alec created this symbol with his blood, and then carefully stepped back so he was standing on the outer ring of the circle. It wasn't incredibly big, but it was enough to get by. He took in a deep breath, and a small voice in the back of his head asked him what he was doing. Alec ignored that voice, and releasing his breath began to dance around the circle; chanting. This summoning didn't require the demon's tongue, only simple Latin so Alec was in luck. His voice soared, and his feet kicked out, hands raised in the air. He danced around the outer ring, making his way back to his original position. His eyes had closed without his noticing, but he opened them once his summoning was complete.

A creature stared back at him, and if Alec was not already so used to demons he might have screamed. It was not a lowly demon, but it was not an incredibly powerful one, either. Almost human looking, but practically boneless; with a sunken look that gave Alec a feeling of disgust. The many shades of green and brown pigment to the things skin gave it an almost sickly look, the way the lipid texture drooped around the creature, and the bulging red eyes only helped to make the creature looked even more diseased. It growled at Alec, showing several sets of teeth. Purple saliva dripped out of its drooping mouth, bubbling.

"Obey me," Alec whispered in Latin, and ignored the feeling of fear inside him. If he had messed up the chant, or the dance, or where he was standing now was not where he was perfectly stood at the beginning of the ritual that the trap would not hold. This demon would leap at Alec, and make an attempt to tear his throat out. There was a chance that Alec would not be quick enough to defend himself, making his life forfeit.

"Obey me," Alec repeated, the Latin feeling like ash on his tongue, and he quelled his shaking. The thing reared back, and made to leap at Alec. Alec closed his eyes, prepared for the teeth to gouge on his neck. They stayed closed for a good ten seconds, but nothing happened. He carefully opened his eyes and saw the demon mere centimetres away from his face. Alec stared back, unmoving. The demon's eyes widened, and a look of fear overcame his hideous face. It was almost shocking to watch, Alec didn't know such a thing could feel fear.

"You didn't move," the demon hissed, and even his voice sounded sour, despite the shocked tone.

"No," Alec said, and he kept in Latin. A part of him didn't dare to speak any other language. "I did not," he made sure his voice was clear, and powerful. Far different from the normal, meek tones Alec was used to hearing from himself. Then again, usually Alec did not care to be heard or seen. This was different, however, it was a necessity that needed to be faced.

"You," the demon said, coming closer again. Only Alec knew now that the demon was unable to touch him. It was almost enough to make him smile. "You are not human," the demon said, and maybe that was meant to bother him. It didn't. Unlike most Shadowhunters, Alec easily accepted their difference from mundanes with ease. He had always wondered if they referred to humans as mundanes so they themselves did not have to admit to being other than human. They had human blood in them, but they were not fully human. They had angel blood, too, which made them something else entirely. To some, they felt it made Nephilim the superior race. Alec did not feel that, either.

"No, I'm not," Alec agreed softly. "Make a deal with me, demon."

The bulging eyes stared at him with something akin to hunger. "A deal, for me, little not-human? And what will you promise me in return?" the demon breathed, and the taint of his breath almost made him sick. Only, Alec had come too far to be frightened away now, especially by the smell of a demon. No matter how sickening it was.

"Your life," Alec said, and he flicked his wrist, calling out to Gabriel. The angel blade appeared in his hand, and the demon scuttled away from him in fear.

Then, it cackled. "How worthy is my life in return for what you are asking for?" the demon demanded, and Alec smiled.

"More than what I am asking for. I ask for the knowledge of the demon language," Alec said, and he wondered if that was shock he was seeing on the demon's face. It was rather difficult to tell, it was so inhumane looking.

"Our language?" the creature asked, as if affirming that was indeed what Alec had requested. "Not wealth, fame, or blood?" the demon asked, coming close again and giving Alec a surprisingly shrewd look. "You are asking for the demon language?" it repeated, and Alec nodded.

It cackled again, even more high pitched than before. "Whatever it is Master wishes," the creature growled, and with those words Alec felt a piercing ring in his head that almost sent him to his knees. He held his position, however, even as the pain worsened. It turned into a pounding at his temples, a fluttering behind his eyeballs. Alec reached up and scratched just under his eye, before forcing himself to rip his hand away despite the itch. Behind the white of his eyes, he could see blood beneath the nail. Alec opened his mouth and screamed, but still refused to move or to claw at himself. The pain seemed to go on for hours, the pounding and the screaming until his throat was raw.

Finally, the tension seemed began to ease. The pain did not completely fade, as his throat still stung and it still felt like he was suffering a blow to the head, but it was not as bad as before. He opened his closed eyelids, and was relieved for the darkness of the factory. He didn't think he'd be able to stand the light right now. He blinked away the rest of his tears, and ignored the way his lashes clumped together. The demon was staring him at him what appeared to be disappointment. Alec ignored him for now.

"Release me now," the demon said, and Alec nodded. He stepped forward, deeper into the circle, and heard a low growl of surprise as Alec broke the confinements. The thing crouched, but Alec was quicker and pulled a poisoned blade from his weapons belt to plunge into the things throat. As the demon began to disintegrate, Alec pulled out a blessed and magicked vial to guide the demon's essence into. The life force sang from beneath the glass, a threatening shriek could almost be heard. Alec placed the dagger and vial back in his pouch.

"Sorry," Alec murmured, despite no one being left to hear. He had kept his part of the deal, and hadn't killed the demon, but he doubted this was the outcome the thing was searching for. The blood had not completely dried, and Alec broke the circle so could walk back out. Then, with the little blood still seeping from his foot, he reformed it again so the trap was whole.

Alec stumbled towards his belongings, ignoring the pain in his foot. He picked up the Book of White but left the rest of his things behind. They were baggage, and unnecessary for the second part of his plan. Admittedly limping, he made his ways to the rickety stairwell and began his trek to the second floor. The second floor had practically the same layout at the ground floor, except more of the furniture was missing. Which was all well and good for Alec because it allowed him to find his position much easier. He made his way to the middle of the room, as he had done before, and once again sat down. He took the pin from where he had kept it stored between the old pages, and laid it beside him for when he would need it.

Then he began to read. Alec only had a very minimal understanding of the ritual he was searching for, if he was being honest. He knew it existed, from the teaching of Hodge and even of some of the speeches he remembered Camille whispering to him in the late night. If this ritual did exist, Alec knew that the only place it could be was the Book of White. From what he had learned of the Grey Book, and even several of the spell books Magnus had allowed him to read, the easiest spells were always at the beginning. While the more dangerous ones lingered in the back.

For what Alec was searching for, he would have to go to the far back of the book. Quickly he flipped through the warn pages, eyes scanning the unique array of letters before him. Alec had always been a quick reader, but despite the knowledge the demon he had summoned had given to him Alec was still having difficulty. There were some words that simply didn't properly translate in his brain, and he had to strain to find a true meaning for them. Alec didn't know how long he had been reading for, but the pounding in his head increased the longer he stared at the gruesome spells and rituals. He couldn't even consider the thought of taking a break, so Alec pushed on until he finally, _finally_ stumbled upon the ritual that had been described to him.

Eagerly turning the page, Alec was relived to know that it was impossible for the book to be torn. It took him longer than he would have preferred to read the passage, as he had to reread certain parts to have a perfect understanding of them, but once he had it sufficiently memorized Alec let the book fall closed as he stood; picking the pin up as he went. He kicked his right leg in the air, grasping his foot with his other hand to bring in close to his body. He ran the pin across his skin in a mirror image of what he had done before. Except, perhaps, the cut was even deeper this time. For practicality, of course, seeing as how this trap would need even more blood.

On the wooden floor Alec drew a second pentacle. This time it was the Grand Pentacle, with many more lines and runes decorating it. He could feel the splinters inside his cut, but continued on. He stared down at the floor with a keen eye, seeing as the alignments had to be perfect otherwise his entire plan was ruined. It took much longer to create this pentacle than it did the last time, but once the words were written, the signs drawn and the lines bloody across the floor Alec stood in position and held himself still, as if he were frozen in time. Which he would be, if everything went correctly. As long as it went exactly as before, everything would be fine.

Taking a deep breath, Alec once again began a second chant. This time in the demon language. The words felt awkward on his tongue, despite the better comprehension he had of them. He danced in a circle again, ignoring the pull that his body was feeling. It almost made him topple over, which made his breath catch, but Alec kept his balance and the chant up. These, he reminded himself, were not the most dangerous circumstances he had ever worked under. Even if he messed up, the only person dead would be him.

Once the dance was finished, Alec came back to his original position. He didn't stay frozen this time, however. Instead he carefully guided both his to his weapons belt, and pulled out a short, rather stunning looking dagger with a sapphire hilt. Grasping this dagger in both hands, Alec methodically dragged it up his own body, lightly piecing the skin while continuing the chant. When he came just below his breasts, he plunged the dagger in. The pain hit him like a tidal wave, but still Alec continued. The blood spurted out of him, and Alec watched as it hit the middle of the circle, could feel the wetness seep down his clothing; dampening the already dark material.

"Come before me," Alec called out, and knew his voice sounded weak.

"I'm already here," an answering voice called, and in a wisp of white that blurred his already tainted vision a boy appeared before him. Except it wasn't a boy at all, but a fallen angel with the appearance of one. He was a very beautiful looking boy, too, Alec noticed. With golden skin, and long black hair weaved with gold. His pants were gold, as well, and hung low on his sharp hips, where rubies winked up at him. He wore more jewelry than even Magnus; decorating his wrists, ankles, hands, ears, and belly-button. A part of Alec couldn't believe that this is what a Prince of Hell looked like. The other part of him was completely convinced. Despite the beauty and the chains, there was an ethereal vibe that sang from his very skin.

"Evening, Alexander Lightwood," the Prince continued, and Alec couldn't help but notice how beautifully the demon language slipped from his lips. Much like Magnus, although Alec never did have the courage to comment on it.

Alec said nothing. There was nothing to say, really. The Prince had no doubt of why he had been summoned. Alec doubted he was really called for anything else. Most normal people did not have the urge to call upon a Prince of the Underworld. Alec should be one of those people, with his heritage he should be loudly protesting the use of the occult. Then again, Alec had never been a very good Shadowhunter so it wasn't like he would be disappointing anyone by taking it one step further.

"May I ask why you've summoned me here, sweet Alexander?" the Prince asked, and stepped forward. It wasn't meant to scare Alec, such as the last demon had tried to do, but it intimidated him far more than the last one had. This wasn't a demon, this was a fallen angel, with beauty unmatched and a likeness to humans that Alec didn't want to think much of.

Alec mustered his courage, however. After all, it wouldn't due for his last act as a Lightwood to be a cowardly one. "The same reason everyone else summons you, I suppose," Alec said easily. "I'd like to make a deal." The words were more hesitant than Alec cared to be, but it couldn't be help. He'd already come this far, had already broken more laws than he cared to think about. There was nothing left to do but to move forward. He couldn't turn back even if he tried, not with the blood seeping out of him. Nobody knew where he was, and Alec wouldn't make it out of the factory alive; the Prince wouldn't even have to move an inch.

"What is your request, sweets?" the Prince asked, he reached out as if to touch Alec, but it was impossible. Still, Alec felt a phantom brush across his cheek that caused him to shiver, anyway.

"Everything I am," Alec said. "In return for immortality." It was something he had desperately tried not to think of, to consider. Alec had never desired to live forever, had never even entertained the idea of living any longer than necessary. Even though he was completely aware of where he would be heading after death, Alec still never cared for life. Until he met Magnus Bane that was, and after that Alec didn't mind living a little while longer. Forever, even.

The Prince looked gave him a calculating look. "Everything, candy? Do you even understand the meaning of the word?" he asked.

Alec stared back. This was what Alec was truly frightened of requesting. "Everything," Alec repeated, "except for Magnus Bane. Let me keep him."

The Prince laughed, and Alec flinched backwards. It was a light, breathy sound but still made Alec's heart beat uncomfortably fast. "Since Jonathon Shadowhunter, never has a Nephilim come and asked for immortality. You are the first," the Prince said. Alec knew he was meant to feel disgusted with himself because of that, but at this point he really didn't care. Alec had done a lot of things the Nephilim weren't meant to do. At least it was nice to be the first one doing it, this time.

"When most humans request immortality, I take everything they have and leave them as a shell. You, however, are not human. I'll accept your offer, sweet candy. I do hope you do it justice," the Prince said, in a voice much kinder than should be allowed.

Alec frowned and looked at the Prince sharply. "Why?" he asked. He hadn't thought it would be this easy for his claims to be met. He thought he'd have to hassle longer, give up more than he even had. It wasn't meant to be this simple. This was a strange predicament, as fallen angels were nothing like Alec expected them to be. They weren't like demons.

"As I said, you are the first of your kind to come to me. For a warlock child, as well," the Prince said, looking Alec over with red eyes that matched the rubies decorating his body. "Do we have a deal, or not, candy? I wouldn't try tricking me, either, I am not as easily tricked as your demons are."

Alec paused only for a second, it was a better than what Alec had been willing to give up, and he nodded without thought. He didn't know what it would truly mean to give up everything, but it was all that Alec had so he was willing to sacrifice it for Magnus. In the non literal sense, Alec had already given up everything for Magnus or had attempted to. This would just be making it official.

This would be more than enough. "We have an accord," Alec agreed, and followed the lines so he was now standing in the middle of the Grand Pentacle. The demon followed him and stood directly in front of Alec. He was perhaps an inch or so taller, just as Magnus was. He looked down at Alec before leaning down, pressing their lips together.

Alec collapsed as he literally felt something being dragged out of him. He screamed, louder than he had before because this pain was beyond unbearable. The Prince caught him before he completely fell, and drew him in close. Alec felt blood against his lips, and realized with a shock that it wasn't his own.

"Drink," the Prince whispered in his ear, "quickly now, replenish what you have lost before immortality sets in. A half life is not a true life, candy, drink," he whispered, and Alec felt insistent hands press against his head. Alec moaned in pain, but began to drink, anyway. Blood, he learned, had a disgusting texture and tasted even worse. It refused to slide down his throat, and kept trying to come back up, but still Alec continued to drink until he felt his head being dragged away. Alec was positive that hair had been torn out, as well.

His vision was to blurry, and his throat felt so raw from all the screaming that all he could release now were these pathetic little whimpers. He was covered in blood, and could still feel it against his lips and it tickled the inside of his throat but he could do nothing to rid himself of it. The Prince dropped him, and Alec barely noticed it when he hit the cold floor. The shocks of pain were still hitting him, and his body was jerking and convulsing in the most repugnant fashion.

"Amazing," he thought he heard the Prince whisper, but his ears were pounding and Alec wondered if he was bleeding from them as well. "Do not disappoint me, Alexander Lightwood. I'm excited to see how you turn out."

With that parting remark, Alec knew he was truly alone. For a moment a shocking amount of fear overtook him, but slowly it started to fade. Alec allowed his eyes to droop as well. Right now all Alec wanted to do was sleep.


	2. a stairwell wrought with blood

_a stairwell wrought with blood_

Clary hadn't been the first person who had asked Alec why he had never killed a demon. Jace and Isabelle had previously demanded an answer to that question as well. He gave them the same excuse that they had fabricated in their own minds; that he had never killed a demon because he was too busy protecting them. It wasn't that far off, really. In fact, Alec could honestly claim that it was part of the reason. Still, there was a small whispering voice in his mind that spoke of an entirely different reason.

It reminded Alec that he had never killed a demon before because he was too sympathetic to barbaric creatures. Foolish, really, to emphasize with demons. They had no conscience thought other than killing, and some were simply clever enough to get away with it for extended periods of times. They could be controlled, but it said nothing of their own desires. Demons were mindless, and would not even understand the reasoning behind Alec's actions but that didn't stop the fuel.

Still, the hatred the Clave had for demonic creatures was a mirror of the hatred they had for people like Alec as well. The same words, such as abomination, were heard and sometimes it was hard to make a clear distinction in his mind of what was really going on. When he brought a blade up to slit a demon's throat, hesitation stilled his arm and had him flinching back.

After that, Alec realized it was easier to simply watch from behind. To direct Isabelle's and Jace's actions and make sure that they brought no harm to themselves. It was easier to not feel that indecisiveness until after the battle had ended if fear and adrenaline for his family were pushing his movements. Otherwise, Alec was basically useless and he recognized that.

In the beginning, Clary had thought it was because Alec was weak. That was almost the complete opposite of the truth. Alec had a higher pain tolerance than the average Shadowhunter, if he was being perfectly honest. Once he had started having problems with the demons Alec began to practice on himself. The thought was worrisome, especially at first, but Alec knew that he had control over the situation. If anything, one of Alec's best attributes was that he was almost always in control of himself.

Which was why he had a near perfect reconciliation of the date he had first used his stele for something other than drawing runes on himself. He was fourteen, but only a month away from fifteen; not quite the child he used to be. It had been just after he had showered. Alec had came out of the washroom, his skin pink and steam heating the two connecting rooms quickly. A towel was slung loosely around his hips, gleaming white and fluffy. It was new, Alec remembered.

The stele was already on the bed, as Alec had placed it their before he left for his shower in place of his clothes. He loosed the towel, and let it fall into one hand. There he stood, completely naked and hair dripping. Alec remembered the slow movement of his hands as he placed the cloth gently onto his bed, sitting down on it so he was facing the doorway. It was locked, and rarely did anyone ever visit Alec in his bedroom, but he was still concerned. Slowly, Alec held the stele in his right hand as he spread his thighs. He held his breath through the first drag of the blade, making only a small cut. Blood welled to the surface of his leg, and dripped down onto the cloth; staining the whiteness a frighteningly ruby colour. Alec had released his breath as he felt the sting of pain, and with it the welcoming relief.

Alec had repeated that process many times throughout the next four years. Until the scars became permanent, and decorated the inside of his thigh. They weren't proper runes, and never inked black. Instead they stayed a faded white. The first time Magnus had noticed them, he said nothing. The second time, he ran the tip of his finger over the scars so gently Alec almost didn't feel it. Magnus had looked up at him with his hooded cat eyes, silently questioning. Alec had shaken his head, saying nothing. Magnus hadn't pushed, but Alec almost wished he would have. A feeling of shame had overtaken him, making him itch, but Alec withheld and simply pushed onto Magnus until even the gentlest of touches seemed painful.

Now that he was waking up on the cold, dirty floor Alec felt no pain. Any injuries that he had inflicted onto himself earlier were gone. Leaving behind only the torn clothing and sticky blood. The dried flecks were peeling away, leaving his skin feeling dry and uncomfortable. Alec coughed up dust as he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling away.

There was no pain, but Alec felt dizzy. Like he couldn't think properly, or was thinking too much. Carefully, he made his way over to where the Book of White still laid. The vial of demon essence that had been abandoned next to it was gone. Alec was relieved that the Prince had accepted that as his sacrificial offering, instead of making an attempt for the sacred book. It was not something that Alec would have wanted to bargain back. Although, thinking about it, Alec found he wouldn't have really cared to, either way.

It was only a book, after all, and it had already given Alec everything he needed. Really, the only purpose it served now was that he had to return it back to Magnus. Along with an apology for stealing it, although any magical book technically belonged to Shadowhunters more so than any Downworlders. Also, Alec had been desperate and this was the only remedy that could have possibly been given.

Alec picked up the book, but as he walked down the stairs and across the ground floor he left behind his shoes. They were covered in grime, and didn't really serve any purpose so Alec didn't really see why he would need them. The more he walked the more sane Alec felt, so he was happy to simply continue onto the streets of New York. It appeared to be nighttime, which was a relief. That meant only an hour or two could have passed, which left Alec with enough time to return to the Institute or Magnus' apartment. To be perfectly honest, Alec didn't feel much like returning to either.

So under the fake illumination of electric lights, Alec continued his walk. Not many people were walking so early in the morning, and those who did paid little to no concern over Alec. Many, in fact, appeared to be just as intoxicated as him in some way or another. It helped him blend into the dark of the night, and offered an easy protection.

Alec ducked into another back alley, still not completely sure where he was going. It didn't really matter, though, if Alec wandered until morning and then returned to the Institute. He could then plan for what he was going to say to Magnus later that night, as he returned with the Book of White. He'd apologize for his actions, explain why he had done what he had, and then he would leave and allow Magnus a few days to think. Really, he could give Magnus weeks or even months to think. They had an eternity now to work out their issues and maybe if Fate allowed it they would fall together. It would have to be Fate, as Alec doubted the Angel wished to guide his path anymore. Although, from what he could tell Alec still had his runes. It was surreal, and not something Alec wanted to be very focused on at this moment.

He paused, both in his walking and in his thinking. For a moment Alec had believed that he heard someone call out his name. There was nothing, though, so Alec continued walking with a shake of his head. The voice was faraway, and had to be a figment of his imagination. Still, he heard it repeated louder this time, almost a scream. It was definitely a masculine voice that was yelling too, and Alec recognized it.

"Simon?" Alec called back, spinning around. There was nobody there, but Alec heard the sound of footfalls and watched in a stupor as the other boy ran into the alleyway; freezing upon seeing Alec. It was definitely Simon, with his leather jacket, cropped brown hair and dark brown eyes. The two boys stared at each other for several minutes. Simon, still appearing to be in shock as Alec watched him in confusion. Distantly, Alec wondered if something had happened that required immediate care but the thought didn't hold his attention for long.

"Alec," Simon repeated, and looked like he wanted to say something else before he stopped. Alec watched as Simon walked uncomfortably close to him. To the point where he could feel Simon's breath on his own face, and it made Alec fidget uneasily. He wanted to take a step back, but resisted the urge to do so.

"Simon," Alec responded. "Are you alright?" the other boy appeared to be fine, and honestly if there was an immediate danger Alec doubted Simon would think to rush around the city looking for him. Still, some sense of propriety made him feel obligated to ask. He guessed a part of him cared to hear the answer, even if Alec couldn't really think about that clearly right now.

"Am I fine?" Simon repeated, looking stupefied. "Alec, you've been missing for three days. Your parents had to contact the Clave – they were considering declaring you dead!" it appeared like Simon was trying to whisper, but his voice had taken on a high quality like he really wanted to shriek.

Alec heard this as if he was in a daze. So apparently his assumption at being unconscious for a mere three hours was actually a daunting three days. Simon looked so incredibly worried that Alec wasn't fully sure how to respond. When Alec first considered the ritual, he had never thought about telling anyone other than Magnus what had happened. It didn't really seem necessary then, and Alec doubted it would be exceedingly helpful right now.

"Well, I'm fine," Alec said, voice slow. "So you can use your cellphone and tell the others I'm fine and will be returning shortly," he continued. That sounded well enough. Despite the concern Alec was sure Isabelle and Jace were feeling for him, Alec still wasn't up to returning to the Institute quite yet. The pounding in his head wasn't gone, and Alec doubted the buzzing of the Institute would help him think anyway. He needed to be alone, and the cold air was actually chilling him, making him feel relaxed and boneless.

"Aren't you going to go home?" Simon asked, still looking worried but not as panicked as he was when he first noticed Alec. Maybe his ability to still manage speech and walking assured the other boy that he was not in anyway mutilated or traumatized. To Alec's surprise, Simon reached out to carefully grab Alec by the elbow. Alec allowed Simon to carefully pull him out of the alleyway and back onto the streets. To where they were immediately attacked by a gust of wind that was easily ignored.

It was much brighter out here, allowing Alec to get a clearer look of Simon. However, the intent was clearly for the opposite as Simon's hand moved up to grasp Alec's shoulder, the other one quickly following so Alec was being held steady. Simon eyed Alec up and down, and even sniffed him once. Alec stared uncomfortably forward without saying a word. Finally, Simon released him but that was only so he could scrutinize him from farther back.

Their eyes met and Alec glared. "Satisfied?" he demanded, feeling sickeningly open and vulnerable.

"No, not really," Simon said, shaking his head. "You're covered in blood, which I know is yours so don't even try to pretend otherwise. You're clothes are cut open, and you're not wearing any shoes. It's December," Simon stressed, like that somehow made it more important. Alec continued to stare at him blankly, not seeing much need for his concern. Clearly he was doing it on the account of Isabelle, who Alec knew he was properly dating now. Or something like that, at least. Simon was immortal, so Alec didn't see them having much in a few years. Even if Isabelle was seeming less fickle than usual.

"I've noticed, thank you. I still don't want to return to the Institute right now. I'm sorry, Simon, but I hardly think you can make me," he said. Alec was one of the select few who knew that Simon no longer had the Mark of Cain. Which made any prior indecisiveness he would have had about fighting the other boy melt away.

"I can't just leave you out here, Alec," Simon said, looking desperate now. He stepped closer to Alec, and Alec refused to step away. He looked down at the other, thankful for once that he was taller than the average person.

"I'm fine," Alec repeated. It was true, he felt fine. Any of the pain he had felt earlier had long since dissipated. What he needed now was to be free from thought, and that would be impossible in the Institute where he would surely be questioned about his whereabouts from the last three days. Alec bought the Book of White closer to his chest, tightening his hold on the object.

"Alright," Simon said, and Alec was relieved that he finally seemed to be in agreement. "We won't return to the Institute. I still can't just leave you out here, you know? Come to my apartment, please, Alec," Simon said. He wasn't begging, not really, but there was a certain plead in his voice that made Alec fidget nervously. There would still be people at Simon's apartment, him plus the other boy he lived with. There was a less of chance of an inquisition there, however.

Besides, taking a walk was hardly the same if he had Simon following him as he went. He watched Simon watch him, trying to decipher if the other boy was lying. Simon had such an honest, trusting face though. Even that could be a well constructed lie, Alec knew. Still, he made the decision to nod in agreement and watch the relief overtake Simon's pale face.

"Awesome," Simon said, and repeated the word several times. Alec watched him in bemusement, not really sure what he should do now. "Let's go, then," Simon said, and began to lead the way. Alec followed after him at a slow place. Simon wasn't walking as quickly as he normally did, Alec noticed. He wondered if the other boy thought Alec was in some sort of pain. To stop those thoughts Alec hurried his steps so he was walking by Simon's side; their arms brushing.

Simon turned to look at him, his eyes no longer masked by the glasses he had worn when Alec had first met them. Isabelle had been quick to get rid of them. Alec knew that by all technicalities Simon no longer needed glasses since he was a vampire, but Alec almost missed them. They had become something he had automatically associated with Simon. Alec also knew that if Magnus decided to wear glasses for whatever reason Alec would not try to stop him. Fate, he probably wouldn't even be able to. Besides, Alec thought with some remaining fondness, Magnus would look as attractive in glasses as he did in everything else.

"I'm fine," Alec assured Simon, just to be positive. Simon did not seem greatly charmed, but he said nothing to deny Alec.

"The apartment is only a few more minutes away," Simon responded. Alec wondered if he was being ignored, but said nothing about it. They continued to walk in the moonlight, until Simon stopped in front of a rather large building. It was hard to see what sort of condition it was in because of the dark, but Alec was going to trust that it was not the sort of building that should probably be demolished.

He followed Simon into the entrance way, and was shocked by the burst of heat that hit him. Alec hadn't realized how cold it had been outside, or in the abandoned building. His body temperature began to heat up, and his cheeks flush. It was comforting and uncomfortable in warring measurement, but Alec did not stall as he followed Simon to the elevator. The building was dimly lit, and it was a consolation to his eyes which likely would not have been able to stand brightness at this moment. The elevator stopped with a ringing ding, causing Alec to flinch back. Thankfully, Simon said nothing as he walked off and Alec followed. They walked a short distance down the narrow hallway, and Simon opened the door with a light creak.

The room was dark as they walked in, but Simon quickly flicked on several lights after shutting the door. Alec simply watched the other boy, not fully sure what he was meant to be doing. Both of them stood in silence for several moments, until the creak of another door opening caused Alec to jump and turn around. Coming out of what appeared to be a bedroom was another boy Alec recognized. Jordan Kyle was as beautiful as Alec remembered him being, even if they had only met for a short amount of time and not during very pleasant circumstances. With his high cheekbones, curly brown hair, and hazel eyes framed by lashes Isabelle would be envious of he was stunning. Jordan Kyle clearly didn't see the necessity of a shirt, so his toned body and tattooed arms were on display for everyone to admire. Alec's eyes flickered away.

"You home, Simon? You alright?" Jordan Kyle asked, tiredly rubbing at his eyes. He didn't seem all together at this moment. To be honest, Alec probably wasn't very all together, either.

"I found Alec," Simon said quickly, and that put Jordan Kyle on full alert. His fist dropped away from his face as his eyes widened. He sniffed the air, before his eyes zoned in on Alec. They stared at each other for quite a bit. If Alec remembered correctly, his last conversation with this boy had been incredibly rude on his part while he had been arguing with Magnus. That probably hadn't been the best impression, but he really couldn't bring himself to care right now.

"Hello," Alec said blankly. "Jordan Kyle," Alec added, to let the other boy know that he had remembered him.

"Alec," he said, and Alec was surprised that the sentiment had been returned. Although, Simon had just said his name a mere five seconds ago so it wasn't that much of an accomplishment. "Are you alright? I smell blood," Jordan Kyle said, and took several steps closer so he could get a better look. Alec tried not to feel uncomfortable, it had been hard enough to deal with Simon.

"I'm fine, thank you, Jordan Kyle," Alec said. He knew that Simon and Jordan Kyle were exchanging some sort of look, but Alec decided to ignore the implications at the moment. At least all the blood had dried so it wasn't dripping all over the floor. Alec wondered what his chest look like at this moment, but it would be rather rude to check right now. At least, as long as he was out in the open.

"May I have a shower?" Alec finally asked after a long moment. Jordan Kyle was immediately nodding, and Alec was relieved. Then again, there wasn't really a reason for them to be saying no.

"Of course, just let me get you some clothes. You'll probably fit into mine better than Simon's. I'll get you some towels from the linen closet, too. Just wait a moment," Jordan Kyle said quickly. He turned back around and rushed into his bedroom again. Alec could hear the sound of shuffling. He came back out with a pair of clothes, and stopped at a closet just beside another door. Opening it, Jordan Kyle pulled out two towels.

Then he turned to face Alec again, gesturing for the other boy to come closer. Simon stepped up to take the Book of White from his hands and Alec brought it closer to himself. It would be foolish to bring it into the washroom, where it could be damaged, but Alec didn't feel much like giving it into the custody of Simon, either. Simon didn't make any grab for the book, and instead watched Alec with wary eyes. It made him feel like he was being given some sort of test, and his hold relaxed.

"I'm just going to put it on the kitchen table," Simon promised, and Alec slowly released the book.

Jordan Kyle beckoned him again, and this time Alec followed the other boy into the door beside the linen closet. Like he expected, it was a moderate sized washroom. Cleaner, though, than what he was initially anticipating. Jordan Kyle expertly tossed up the two towels over the bars, and put the neatly folded clothes on the counter. He held up a pair of boxers, his cheeks a little pink. Alec stared at him vacantly.

"I won't be offended if you don't, like, wear them. But if you'd feel more comfortable in them or something, I don't mind sharing. They're clean, I promise." Jordan Kyle smiled somewhat nervously as he awkwardly folded them and set them on top of the pile of clothes. Alec stared at him, rather surprised. He knew what sort of organization Jordan Kyle was apart of, but he still didn't expect the other boy to be so kind.

"Thank you, Jordan Kyle," Alec murmured, fiddling with his hands a little. "It's really unnecessary, but thank you."

Jordan Kyle stepped forward, and for all his beauty seemed rather ungraceful with his movements. "It's all good, really. And you can just call me Jordan, y'know," Jordan Kyle – Jordan said, smiling slightly.

"Oh," Alec said. "I knew you used both and thought that was what you preferred," he admitted. Jordan shrugged, now looking like he wished he hadn't brought it up.

"If you want to call me by both, I don't mind. But I usually just go by Jordan – Kyle is my last name, though," Jordan said, as if in a reflexive assurance.

"They're both nice, but I'll just call you Jordan," Alec said. Jordan gave him one last awkward, but sincere smile. He looked like he wanted to do something else, but shook his head, exiting the washroom.

"If you want, you can lock the door," Jordan said as he shut the door. Alec nodded and did so once it was resolutely closed.

Then Alec began to remove his soiled clothing. Part of it stuck to his body, but a quick pull had it drawn away. Once his shirt was removed Alec immediately began to inspect his chest. He already had several ugly scars from some harsh incidents with several demons, but beneath the dried blood he could see the newly formed one. It looked fresh, but it had closed up nicely and seemed mercifully uninfected.

Alec made quick work on his shredded pants and boxers, as there wasn't much left to physically remove. Once that was done Alec turned on the shower and waited until it was steaming to go in. The hot water pierced his skin and gave it a pink hue almost instantly, but Alec still let out a moan of relief. He worked on rubbing the majority of the blood off with his hands before using soap. He watched as it ran down his body and into the drain, tinting the water a dirty brown colour.

Slowly, Alec began to wash himself off of all grime and filth attached to his body. It was a slow process, and took quite a bit of scrubbing with a loofah that Alec decided to borrow. As he has expected, all cuts were closed. Even the ones on his feet. Alec felt no pain, no matter how rough he brought the loofah over them. Only once the blood was off did Alec begin to wash his hair. He had to repeated this process several times, something he had only done after a particularly gruelling battle. It was only after the third rise of conditioner that Alec felt adequately clean.

He turned the shower off, and let himself drip for several moments before exiting the shower. Then he grabbed the towels off the bar and began to dry his body and hair thoroughly. The mirror was steamed, and it was impossible for Alec to see his reflection. Which was actually rather nice, considering he didn't really want to. Alec took the boxers off the pile of clothes and slid them on. He knew that this would be something Jace would protest doing, but Alec honestly didn't care. They were clean, soft and he appreciated the extra barrier. The next article of clothing was a pair of flannel pyjama pants. They were a simple red and black pattern. Alec put them on without complaint, feeling their warmth against his cooling legs. They were actually the proper fit, even if they hung low on his hips. The final piece of clothing was a rather large, red hooded sweater. There was no zip-up, so Alec pulled it over his head and tugged it down his body. It partially covered his hands, and was loose around the shoulders. Surprisingly familiar, as it was like the sweaters Alec was used to wearing.

Freshly showered and in comfortable clothing Alec was already beginning to feel more calmed. He placed his formerly filthy clothes within the towels and exited the washroom again. The steam escaped the room in a rush as the air cooled Alec's damp hair. He walked back down the short hallway to the kitchen where both Simon and Jordan were sitting. They looked up at Alec's entrance from where they had been whispering together.

"I'll take that," Jordan said, rising quickly. "Here, you should sit down. I made you some tea and something to eat. It's still hot, don't worry. Condiments are all already out since neither of us really knew what you wanted," Jordan said, taking the pile from his hands. He fell short however, and once again sniffed the air, close to where Alec's shoulder was. It was rather unusual to watch, but Alec was becoming accustomed to the ease in which it was done.

Jordan eyed Alec up and down several times, looking rather embarrassed. He once again pointed out the table before going down the hall with the pile of clothes in his arm. Simon was watching with tired, but amused eyes. Alec came forward a bit, pulling out a chair from across the table where Simon was, and Jordan had been sitting. He watched Simon wrinkle his nose a bit in surprise, but said nothing about it. Instead he pulled the mug and plate of food closer to himself. The Book of White was a little bit away from him, so Alec brought that closer as well before focusing on the food.

It was breakfast food, and Alec wasn't fully positive about how he was meant to feel about that. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and two pieces of brown toast. Both kindly cut in half and stacked on top of each other. Alec reached for the ketchup to put some in a small space left, and slowly began eating. For being so simple, it was admittedly delicious. Perhaps, Alec simply wasn't used to home cooked food, or it was a little something more. He stopped after a few minutes, partially done, to reach for his tea. Alec pored a careful amount of milk in, before adding three rather plentiful spoonfuls of sugar.

The majority of people Alec knew thought he enjoyed his tea and coffee black. Alec didn't fully understand why, but it wasn't true. Alec took pleasure from sweet drinks, occasionally even adding honey. He was the sort of child who preferred vanilla hot chocolate instead of simply hot chocolate just for its added sweetness. Vanilla was the sort of coffee he preferred, too. He sipped from the mug. It was lukewarm, and while Alec normally preferred for his tea be hotter he didn't protest. Jordan had returned to the table and was watching Alec with a keen eye, but Alec said nothing as he continued to eat and drink.

To be honest, a part of Alec was surprised that he didn't starve during his three days of sleep. He certainly didn't have a way of getting any sort of fluid into his system, but it was mystery that Alec wasn't very inclined to question at this very moment. Once he finished Alec rose as if to take his plate to the sink but Jordan's hand on his wrist stopped him. Instead, Jordan took the plate and the finished mug to the sink and rather carelessly set them there before turning to the table. All three boys say in silence for a considerable amount of minutes. Alec had once again picked up the Book of White, and set it in his lap. His hands were folded protectively over top of it.

"It's about three in the morning," Jordan said abruptly, starting Simon out of his haze. Alec simply watched him with a blank look in his face. He didn't really care for the time. It didn't really seem to matter all that much. Jordan was watching him carefully. "Would you like to sleep? You can have my bed," he said.

Alec wasn't feeling very tired, but the idea of laying down on a bed instead of a cold floor seemed rather nice. He still wasn't feeling much pain, but knew even after his hot shower just how tense his muscles and joints were at this moment. Still, a couch would serve just as well. "I don't have to take your bed," Alec said quietly, "really, the couch is fine."

Jordan shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'm feeling way too awake anyway, I doubt I'll even go back to bed," he said. Alec was still doubtful. After all, it was his barging in that had awoken Jordan from what was likely a pleasant rest before dealing with a rather shocking turn of events dealing with a Shadowhunter, of all things.

When Alec looked ready to protest again, Jordan shook his head. "Really, Alec, it's fine. Trust me, you've used my shower, my clothes, I might as as well give you my bed or the story won't sound nearly as interesting," he looked at Alec carefully, "please?" he asked.

Simon was watching without a word. He didn't seem to be encouraging Alec in either direction. Finally, Alec relented with a nod. "Alright. Thank you, Jordan," Alec repeated his earlier words with a slight bit more conviction. Jordan didn't have to be as kind as he was being, and Alec knew that as a Shadowhunter he would need to repay the boy some how. Jordan was a werewolf of outstanding dignity, especially considering how Alec had acted when they had first met.

"Alright," Jordan said softly, standing. "I'll show you where my room is."

He was polite enough to wait until Alec was standing and waiting at the end of the table to begin walking. It actually wasn't that complicated to realize where Jordan's room was, as Alec had seen him walk out it earlier. Still, they walked down the small hallway together and Jordan pushed his bedroom door open, flicking the light on as he went inside. Alec followed.

It was a simple bedroom, with an easy design. The light was brighter than Alec preferred, but the bed was comfortable looking. Alec hadn't realize until just now how desperately he wanted to lay down. Still, he was hesitant, looking over at Jordan. It was strange to think about how this was actually Jordan's bedroom; his personal space, and that Alec was simply going to take it for the night. Alec was unsure if he'd be able to make the same sort of offer to a near stranger.

"Go on," Jordan said, and gestured for Alec to lay down. Alec moved carefully, feeling rather uncomfortable. The only beds that Alec had been in outside of his own was the one in the hospital wing and Magnus'. In fact, the only house that he had ever stayed at outside his home in Idris and the Institute was Magnus'. This was complete foreign territory for Alec, since the protocol was entirely different. Alec doubted he would be having sex with Jordan, nor did he feel entirely inclined to.

"Thank you," Alec repeated, laying down on the bed and pulling up the covers. He set the Book of White onto the pillow next to him. Then he curled up into a little protective ball, but kept his eye on Jordan.

"You're welcome, honestly. Would you like the light on or off?" Jordan asked. Alec felt rather childish as he answered with off, but Jordan nodded like this was the most common occurrence in the world. He flicked the light off, plunging the room into a relieving darkness. Alec let his eyes flutter close, and was actually beginning to feel rather tired despite the three day sleep he had just woken up from.

"Goodnight, Alec," Jordan said, and Alec murmured a goodnight that he didn't think was actually heard. "Simon and I will be down the hall if you need anything, promise." Alec said nothing to that, and heard the door being shut softly.

Alec curled up into an even tighter ball. He wasn't tired, but perhaps some sleep would be good. The confusion hadn't let him yet, and Alec wondered if he was even aware of his own actions. Everything felt like an angry, upset daze and he doubted that was something Jordan and Simon wanted to deal with in the morning. Even if they were being strangely kind.


End file.
